This Bonesology Valentine's Day gift is for Jazzyproz. I am so sorry it's late! This winter hasn't been a good one for me. I am trying to console myself with the fact that I am getting this first chapter posted before the end of February AND that love is always in season, right?

Jazzy wanted: B & B all the way, A tropical/exotic setting, Pre-relationship through New-relationship, Savory food

What I came up with starts after The Boy with the Answer. Remember Booth tells Bones that maybe she needs a vacation? In this story the season 5 finale NEVER happens. Yay! No Maluku, no Afghanistan, no separation, NO Hannah!

I am not going to make any posting schedule promises because that just seems to guarantee all heck is going to break loose in my personal life. But I do promise to finish it AND that it will be about 5 chapters long, maybe more depending on how long it takes to get where we're going.

Also, this chapter has a little angst in it and there may be a tiny bit more here and there, but really by the end of this chapter the worst of it is OVER. This story is mostly fun and playful. I promise!

Jazzy, I love you! You are one of my favorites. Great person, great writer, and I hope this satisfies!

Chapter 1

He wasn't sure what he was expecting when he agreed to go with her to Thailand as her partner/protector, but this certainly wasn't it. Exotic, yes, but not necessarily in the good way. And this place, Phimai, a city near the village where the dig was located in the Non Sung district of the Nakhon Ratchasima Province, was nowhere near a beach or the luscious, dense jungles - or was it forests? - whatever they called it here, the ones you see on all the tourist brochures. This was mostly flat and, while it was green and there were some very old stone temples that were pretty cool and banyan trees, it was largely rice fields, farms, small towns or villages, and lots of poverty. He spent way too much time as a sniper hulled up in places just like this waiting for the perfect shot.

Not that he was complaining. He wasn't. He was with her. While sometimes it was hard and still a little awkward, fallout from his failed attempt to move their relationship forward, every night after they returned from the dig site they headed out to the Phimai Night Market, a mix between a farmer's market and street fair. Wandering among the booths of fresh vegetables, fish, meats, baskets, crafts, and food they talked and laughed, just the two of them soaking up the local fare. It was easy to forget the awkwardness that hung over their partnership immediately following her rejection on the steps of the Hoover. He loved it, getting lost in his time alone with her, still, it was a double edged sword, a painful reminder of what he couldn't have, what wouldn't be.

But not today. No, today, all day, was spent inside the small bungalow they rented, which left way too much time to think. Booth stood by the window listening to the rain pound away as he watched it fall in solid sheets off the roof. "And you're sure this isn't the rainy season?" He hollered to be heard over the storm.

"Yes, I'm sure." She answered from behind him, leaning against the open doorway. "Monsoon season generally peaks in August. It's unusually wet for May." Shifting her weight she watched her partner as he nodded, accepting her answer without turning around to look at her.

They'd been there for a week already and it had rained some almost every day, but nothing like this. Their days were spent at the dig site, early morning until late afternoon, evening. It was her temporary lab, and he often wondered if this was what China would have been like if they'd made it off the plane.

Three days he watched from the sidelines as she helped with the excavation of remains. Saw her bent over the earth with her small brushes carefully whisking away centuries of dirt, revealing skeletal remains of men, women, children, even animals. Some easily recognizable, others just looked like bones to him.

Other days she was tucked away in an unairconditioned tent of a building, hot and humid, the buzz of electric fans blowing, sorting through boxes quite literally marked "Bone People" in black sharpie. She was predictably unhappy about that, which she made abundantly clear. Dr. Temperance Brennan, a force to be reckoned with, she was her own storm. Those poor grad students found themselves on the receiving end of a never ending lecture on the proper handling of human remains.

"They have to learn, Booth," she explained with great intensity and passion. "That is part of my job as a consulting expert on the dig. I would be remiss if I didn't teach them." Days later and she still brought it up every time a runner came to her with another box of bones. He smiled every time, that was Bones, didn't matter if she was in her lab or at a crime scene, giving a guest lecture, or off in some foreign land, she was always teaching.

Eventually he stopped hovering, a relief to both of them, and spent some time checking the perimeter of the dig site, taking a look at their security procedures, talking with those charged with securing the site. They all spoke a little English, enough for him to do a little teaching of his own.

But not today. Booth let out a heavy the rain made it impossible to get from their bungalow in Phimai to the site in Ban Non Wat, impossible to go out exploring the market, impossible to do anything but hunker down in their stark accommodations and wait for the storm to pass.

A couple more steps and she was standing just behind him. He could feel her close, that energy, her energy, and took in a sharp breath. He wasn't good at doing nothing, she wasn't either. And while he couldn't account for what she was thinking about, this time, this forced idleness, made it hard for him not to think about "them," about what went wrong on the steps of the Hoover that night, rehearsing that conversation over and over. Mentally, it wasn't where he wanted to be. Turning around, he forced himself out of that mindset.

"I'm sorry you can't get to the dig site today, Bones. I know it's hard after coming all the way around the world to be there." His sympathetic brown eyes caught hers. Always genuine, always, always connected, always caring, like she was his only concern in the world. They left her speechless, overwhelmed by what she saw there. Her eyes fell shut momentarily.

It was her turn to offer up a mere nod of acceptance, with no words to express all the thoughts swirling in her head. Being here, with him, it was good. She needed this after the long, tedious year they'd shared, culminating in the gravedigger trial, and she was sure he needed it too. They needed it, she sought to persuade herself, to find their center. Plus, it was his idea for her to get away, to take a vacation.

Letting out a heavy sigh, she let her whole posture fall as she released the tension she held high and tight.

"It's okay. The dig isn't the only reason I'm here." She was tired, weary really, and this, this dig, this time with him, just him, no murders, no pressure from well meaning friends and colleagues, tucked away in their own world, it was restorative. At least it was suppose to be, though she was afraid she lost sight of that, getting caught up in the dig.

But not today. Today forced her to stop and take inventory, personal inventory. Reaching for his hand, she took it in her own and tugged, leading him out of the small house and onto a covered porch. Booth followed, as he so often did, without question, until she sat down on the wooden bench swing made for two and patted the spot next to her. Nodding, he sat down and they began to rock slowly back and forth, setting a lazy pace.

The small deck looked out over the Mun River and through the streams of water pouring off the roof was the perfect view. Storm clouds rolling, flashes of lightning, streaks of deep purples and blues, the sunset was barely peeking around the edges of dark clouds.

It wasn't long before he felt her head fall to his shoulder followed by a sweet, soft sigh of contentment. One thing he knew for sure, he couldn't deny her, she'd proven that over and over again. It didn't matter whether it was something as small as a slow dance at her high school reunion or as big as bearing the burden of unrequited love to stay partners because she still wanted it, needed it. Or this, sitting side by side in long drawn out silence, her curled up next to him, as if nothing had happened between them, as if she hadn't rejected him and they hadn't agreed to move on.

"I'm not seeing Andrew anymore." Her words cut through the roar of monsoon rains beating the roof and earth and river that ran in front of their rented cottage.

"You're not?"

She took in a long deep breath. "No...no...not anymore."

He wasn't sure if he should ask why or what happened. He wasn't all that fond of Hacker to begin with, but if he hurt her, well, he wasn't sure he could deal with that and not say something, or worse, do something about it. At the same time, he was admittedly relieved to hear that the two of them weren't going out anymore. He never really wanted her to date him in the first place, obviously, she deserved better than Hacker.

"I'm sorry, Bones, if he couldn't see what a catch you are, he doesn't deserve you."

"It wasn't him." She stated definitively. "It was me. He wanted more, he wanted a relationship."

"Bones…Bones, he's my boss, you really don't-"

"But I want to tell you." She jumped to explain. "You are my partner...and...and my friend and I want to tell-"

"Well, yeah..." Letting out a long tempered breath, Booth let his head fall back, and he stared up at the ceiling of the covered porch as he braced himself for what was to come.

"He wanted to have sex with me." Booth flinched, he tried not to, he tried not to react at all, but it was involuntary. And she felt it, he knew she did.

"Of course he did."

"But, I found that as much as I enjoy his company, I didn't want to have sex with him...I...I couldn't…." That last word came out slow and careful, drawn out, emphasising its implications. "I couldn't...and I'm not sure why, because he is attractive...not as attractive as you, but attractive, and charming. I find him funny and he's intelligent enough, but I found myself uninterested, more than uninterested, I was...I just...couldn't." Her tone let Booth know it troubled her and he wondered if this was why she was bringing it up, because she needed his help understanding her own feelings, something she often turned to him for.

What she didn't tell him was that the whole situation reminded her of Sully and his offer to sail away with him, which made it all the more troubling to her. She remembered the intensity of that feeling, she couldn't do it, couldn't leave, no matter how hard she'd tried, she'd felt...tied to her life in DC. She couldn't. Though now she questioned whether it was her life in DC she was tied to or her partner, who seemed to be the common denominator in both situations.

"So, what you're saying here is that your gut told you not to." There was definitely some gloating going on, which broke the building intensity between them. She could feel his broad smile and the puffed up change in his posture. Shaking her head slightly side to side, she laughed, soft and low, scooting in just a little closer. She loved this part of him, it always made her smile.

"No, not my gut, my gut doesn't tell me anything...and neither does yours." she added quickly.

"Look, Bones, if you don't want to sleep with someone, no matter who it is, Hacker or anyone else for that matter, even if you have a million great rational reasons for doing it, don't do it, okay? You shouldn't. When you make love to someone, you should both be all in, you know? You should both want it and everything that comes with it."

Nodding against his shoulder, she wrapped her arm through his and squeezed, curling in a little closer. Lulled by the even movement of the swing, the pair settled into one another. Their bodies at ease with one another, while their minds raced through the gap in conversation.

"I, uh, I'm not seeing Catherine anymore either." His words hung in the air until his confession started to get uncomfortable.

"Why?" Lifting her head, she put her foot down firmly which stopped the gentle rhythm of the swing, and turned to look at Booth. "I thought she made you laugh. I thought you were compatible."

He shrugged.

"I don't know why, I mean, sometimes it just, you know, doesn't go anywhere." Searching his eyes for something more, she let them dart across his fine features. "It wasn't a bad thing, it wasn't even really anything at all. We went out a few times and those times got farther and farther apart until we just didn't really contact each other anymore. It just petered out."

She stared at him for what seemed like forever, as if she was deciding whether to accept his answer, then laid her head back down on his shoulder and let her hand slip down into his. "Okay." Pushing off with her tiptoes, she started the swing rocking again. "I'm sorry, Booth."

"Nothing to be sorry about. I'm good." And he was.

Catherine had taught him something, he wasn't ready to move on, no matter what he told her or Sweets or anyone else for that matter. This woman sitting next to him, leaning on him, holding his hand, she wasn't so easy to move on from, and he was okay with that for the moment.

The storm gathered strength and they watched as the electricity flickered and went out across the whole area, forcing them inside. They lit candles and raided the small refrigerator in their bungalow for leftovers, which they shared around a tiny coffee table in their crowded living space. It all felt so natural, sitting next to each other in the tiny living room laughing, like so many midnight meals shared in DC, except this wasn't DC.

"Thank you, Booth." They were cleaning up, putting away the remnants of their makeshift dinner, rinsing dishes, wiping down counters, and her comment caught him off guard. It was out of the blue, unrelated to anything they were talking about as they ate and talked and laughed, she could see his confusion. "For coming...with me...thank you." He nodded, smiled, but before he could respond she reached up and kissed him, her warm lips lingering against his cheek for just a moment too long, and then she was gone, calling over her shoulder that she was going to bed.

He sat alone in the dark, watching the flashes of lightning, counting, his whole body bracing for the thunder he knew would follow, no more distractions to occupy his mind. He wouldn't go to sleep, he knew that, it wasn't worth the risk of being startled back awake in a state of confusion and panic. She didn't think about it, how the storm might be affecting him, until she made her way back out to the kitchen for a drink and saw him sitting there, staring straight out into it.

"I used to love storms." She spoke into the darkness. "When I was a little girl my dad used to drive me all around town chasing rainbows. They always seemed kind of magical." Booth heard the cupboard open, the clank of a glass, the door close, and then she was there beside him. Not much more than a silhouette in her soft grey t-shirt and sleep shorts. "That all changed when they left." Clearing her throat, she took in a sharp breath, let out a heavy sigh, and sat down beside him, handing him her glass. "After that...after that...they were just dark and…" Another long, measured breath, a sip of the hard liquor Booth handed back to her, and she continued, "and lonely."

It was late, too late for pretense. "C'mere." He whispered, as he wrapped his arm around her and pulled her in close, rubbing her shoulder lightly. Two souls beat about by life, their experiences weren't exactly the same, but they understood one another in a way they chose not to articulate more often than not.

"The sound...it's the sound for me. It stirs up...memories." Back in DC those memories were manageable. That was home, it felt like home and sounded like home, and there were plenty of people and things to anchor him. Though, even at home he never slept well during thunderstorms and sometimes, if it was a really bad one or if he was having an off day, he didn't sleep at all. This place, this place wasn't home, there was nothing here to ground him in reality except her, and he worried that he'd scare her if his PTSD got the better of him. "I can't...I can't go to sleep like that."

Cocking her head, she pulled away and looked up at him. "I understand," then fell back into him.

That was all they said on the matter. They left it there. Sitting quietly in the dark, each flash, each thunderclap, brought little movements, slight adjustments drawing them closer. She pulled her legs up underneath her, leaning into him. He moved into the corner of the couch, pulling her with him. Her head slipped from his shoulder down onto his chest. He stretched out his legs, pulling them up onto the cushions. She stretched out too, wiggling between him and the back of the couch, one leg falling across his. He slipped down to rest his head on a pillow. She followed, letting her arm lay across his chest, her fingers drawing slow even patterns. His hand fell low on her waist, following the curve of her hip. She hummed.

The more they relaxed, the more comfort they attained, the more intertwined their bodies became, until they were knit together. The storm eased, lightning and thunder grew farther and farther apart as their breaths became deeper, slower, more even, until she gave into the security she felt and slept. He stayed awake for a little while longer. Long enough to feel her body jerk to the loud roar of another thunderclap, to feel her pull in and whisper, "tighter." Long enough to do as she asked and hold her closer, to kiss the top of her head and promise to keep her safe. Long enough to call her baby.

But not much longer than that. He followed her into a sound sleep.

It was the bright morning light streaming in the open windows that woke Booth. His arms were empty and he wondered, for a moment, if it was all a dream. But there she was, bustling around the small kitchen in the same grey shirt and shorts. She didn't say anything about the night before, just thrust a cup of coffee at him with both hands as he struggled to get his bearings and sit up.

"Thanks." He mumbled as he took the cup from her. He was a few swallows in before realized how late it must be. "I'll get dressed and we can get going." He offered.

"Take your time, Booth, we're not going to the site today." He looked confused. "I already called in." Squaring her shoulders, she stood up a little straighter, bolder. "We are going to go to the Phimai Historical Park and a couple other places here locally. There's a banyan tree that's over 350 years old and you can walk amongst the ruins of the temple there." Swallowing, he looked up at her over the edge of his cup of coffee.

"Okay." He nodded, not really sure how to take the change of plans or her intensity.

"I will go to the dig site tomorrow." Softening, she smiled. "I'm going to go change now." He watched her go, confused, but not about to complain. He was still watching when she called over her shoulder. "On Saturday we are going to take a day trip to the Khao Yai National Park, there's an amazing waterfall there. It's only a couple hours away."

Smiling against the warm mug, he sat back against the couch and let out a deep, satisfying sigh.

He had a theory, formed over the last twenty-four hours, solidified when she lay sleeping in his arms. That kiss on the steps of the Hoover was a mistake, his mistake. Yeah, he was the gambler, the risk taker, but he was also the guy that trusted his gut, and his gut said there was something between them, something solid. That she might be scared, but she felt it too, maybe even wanted it. His mistake was listening to Sweets that night. He should've waited, he should've taken what the kid was saying under advisement and listened to his gut, waited for it to tell him she was ready, that it was time to make that move. That was his . And maybe, hopefully, he could fix that.

ooooo0ooooo

A/N: Thank you for reading! So, what do you think so far? I am anxious to hear from you!

Special thanks to Chosenname and Snowybones for helping me out with editing and support. Saying thank you doesn't even begin to cover my gratitude, especially this month because I am still not 100% and my brain is all kinds of wonky.

Much love,

DG